


Little Boy Lost

by jujukittychick



Series: Prostitutes and Mobsters [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Mob, Community: stories_a_z, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Peter, Oral Sex, brief forced felatio on a weapon, dub-con due to prostitution, rape and underage are in the past and only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujukittychick/pseuds/jujukittychick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski is out on his own in his hometown that is nothing like it was when he was captured four years ago.  Having run from one extremely bad situation, he’s probably just made a huge mistake when he propositions none other than Peter Hale, head of the Hale crime family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Boy Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Solicited Love Fest, stories_a_z - L  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf and am making no money; I am doing this for my own fun and entertainment. The fandom belongs to its respective creators and owners who *are* making money off them.  
> Beta: NONE! Any mistakes are my own  
> Spoilers: first and second season due to mentioned characters?  
> A/N: I have only watched the first 4 eps of this, the very vague mentions of the other characters are being implied from what I’ve inferred from the show and read through various fanfics, be warned.  
> **I already have two more parts to this story in mind that will be posted eventually as individual fics, just so you know :)

****Tucked inside the doorway of yet another abandoned office building, Stiles looked out over the desolate street before him, shivering slightly as a stray breeze caught him, the thin t-shirt he wore giving little defense to the elements.  He remembered how things used to be when he was still a kid, when things were still _good_ , before things went to hell seemingly overnight.  
  


.oOo.

Beacon Hills had been a slow growing metropolis; a small city spreading its roots, and borders, as more businesses started moving in and employed more people.  Stiles didn’t really remember what the city looked like before the towers had started going up, had never seen any pictures and only heard stories, but he’d heard it was “quaint,” whatever the hell that meant in the scheme of things.  But, as with most things, with business came money, and with money came crime, and crime…well it needed somebody in control of it all.  Of course, from what Stiles had been told from his father, who had been the long-time Sheriff of the city, Beacon could have done a lot worse than the Hales in that regard.   
  
The Hales were a large family, run in the most part by Talia Hale and her husband, with her younger siblings and their families filling in the ranks.  They’d had a large family compound outside the actual city limits located near a sprawling forest with plenty of room for each family group to have their own homes.  Between all the siblings and their children, they were almost a little town all on their own.  The Hales kept the shadier side of business in check, the violence to a minimum and out of view of the regular public.  As Stiles got older and realized what exactly was going on, he’d asked his father why he allowed the Hales to do what they did; he was the Sheriff after all.  His father had told him that the Hales were good people, he’d even gone to school with several of them; they genuinely cared about their city and the people living there.  The family itself had lived there for several generations and it wasn’t just some business operation to them, but a way to keep the worse elements out and make sure that the city was someplace that they wouldn’t mind their own children living in.  He and Mrs. Hale had sat down and come to an agreement when he’d become Sheriff, as much one parent to another as law officer to crime boss.  As long as no weapons or drug trafficking went on, and anything else on the shadier side of the laws, namely prostitution and gambling, was kept out of the public eye, he and his people would work with them instead of against them.    
  
And for over ten years the unlikely partnership  _worked_.  The city flourished.  There was very little crime; petty thugs kept out by the very threat of the Hale family, and no other crime families looking to move in on the territory either since it really wasn’t near any major metropolises.  The city had even won awards for most beautiful and cleanest in the county; the school system was one of the top ranked in the state.  Life was  _good_.  
And then the Argents came.

  
.oOo.

A flash of color brought Stiles out of his memories and he turned his head just in time to see a man in a navy blue peacoat walk by.  Not hesitating, he tumbled off the raised entrance and reached out a hand, touching the man’s arm just enough to get his attention as he started to speak.  “Hey there, can I interest you in…” The sound of a gun cocking as the man spun towards him, arm outstretched, had his words dying on his tongue.  Eyes wide, he managed to look beyond the barrel of the gun that was pointed directly between his eyes to the man holding it.  An older man, probably in his late thirties, heavily muscled, going by how the expensive coat stretched across his frame, styled hair, cold blue eyes…and a puckered set of scars running across the side of his face.  “Oh, shit! Mr. Hale…I’m…I’m sorry, I didn’t realize!”  
  
The end of the gun was pressed firmly to his skull, right between his eyes, as its owner lifted an eyebrow in mock curiosity.  “And yet you realize who I am now.  Who are you? Who sent you? You’re too pretty not to belong to someone.”  
  
Stiles shivered as the cold barrel trailed over his face to his temple, pressing not quite gently as he was silently encouraged to tilt his head to the side.  Knowing what the older man was looking for, Stiles turned his head and slowly reached up to tug the collar of his t-shirt down.  On the side of his neck in bright green dye was the Argent crest.  
  
“Hmph.  I was right. One of Argent’s then.  What are you doing out here on your own? He’s not one to let his property wander.” As Stiles stared wide eyed at him, the man bared his teeth, pressing harder against his temple with the gun.  “I suggest you start speaking, boy.”   
  
“My name’s Stiles, Sir, Stiles Stilinski.”  
  
That got the other man’s attention. “Stilinski? The Sheriff?”  
  
Stiles swallowed hard, eyes closing as he thought about his father, about the way he’d literally been ripped away from him four years prior, never to see or hear from him again.  He didn’t even know if he was still alive.  Choking back the tears that threatened every time he thought of his father, he nodded.  “He’s…was… _is_ … my father.  I’d seen pictures of all the Hales at some point, and then after…” Stiles couldn’t keep his gaze from flicking towards the scars, a reminder of the unprovoked attack the Argents had led on the unsuspecting family; an attack that only Peter, Talia Hale’s baby brother, and his niece and nephew managed to escape, solely because they had been in one of the outlying buildings when the Argents detonated all the explosives they’d set around the compound.  All three were wounded, but Peter had taken the brunt of his injuries to his, admittedly, gorgeous face and upper torso where he’d tried to shield the two teens with his body. “After the attack, my dad took me with him to the station and I heard about what happened. He was afraid to let me out of his sight. Didn’t matter in the end though, did it.”   
  
Apparently Peter didn’t take well to his muttered words and pushed the gun barrel against his temple to get his attention once more.  “And how do I know you’re not just bait in some trap? Argent doesn’t let his toys run free.  I know this mark.  You work in one of the whore houses.”  
  
“ _Used to_ , I used to work there.  I escaped.” Stiles’ tongue darted over dry lips as he looked into the cold, uncaring eyes of the man before him.  “When the Argents raided the station, they tore me from my dad’s arms at gunpoint, knocked me out before we even got outside and when I came to I was in some dingy little room, stark naked, and tied up.” A shudder racking through his thin body at the memories, Stiles hugged himself tightly, eyes closing once more as he was unable to hold Peter’s unwavering gaze.  “I… I was fourteen and Gerard Argent, devil himself, came in, beat me bloody, trying to get answers to questions I had no way of knowing.  I was just a kid! Sure I was the Sheriff’s kid, but it’s not like he  _talked_  to me about stuff that was going on! I just…just…” Stiles took in a shaky breath, trying to gather himself. “When he figured out I was telling the truth…or maybe he just got tired of asking…he sent in a couple of his goons.  Fast forward a couple hours and I wasn’t a virgin anymore and I was told to get used to it ‘cause it was going to be my life from there out.  I guess he instituted the marking system not long after.  I just know one day somebody came in and snatched me up by my hair and held me still as some other guy came in and stamped something on the side of my neck.  Every couple months they reapply the dye.”  
  
“Why not just tattoo you? I’m sure Gerard’s had a very exclusive client list for you given your age and family ties. And you mentioned escaping.  How?”  
  
Stiles looked up at Peter, at the honest curiosity on the man’s face, though it didn’t seem to be encouraging him to lower his weapon any time soon.  After everything that had happened to the man’s family, he really couldn’t blame him.  “Funny enough, I asked that same question this last time.  I mean, hey, four years being whored out to creepy old men without even seeing any profit from it like the rest of the people in the house, might as well, right?  They told me…they told me that once my usefulness wore off, it would be easier to sell me without any permanent marks.  My usefulness! Like I was doing that shit by choice.” Stiles’ arms had flailed outward in outrage and he had to make himself take a steadying breath.  Surprisingly, seeing how calm the older man still was helped.  Shrugging carelessly, unintentionally rubbing his shoulder against the inked mark on his neck, he let himself get caught by Peter’s gaze once more.  “So, I watched.  I learned who watched what doors; whose eyes stayed on me a little too long.  Let a few guards have a freebie every couple days, get used to seeing me around, and then…then last week I made my move.  Gave one of the guards a blow job, made sure it was good, and then while he was still recovering, stole his keys and snuck out.  I found some clothes, made my way as far across town from that place as I could and started applying my knowledge to regular people to make enough money to eat once or twice a day.  But I have to be careful, you know, ‘cause it could be one of Argent’s guys and then I’ll really be fucked, and not in any kind of good way of the term.”  
  
“Hmmm.  Say I believe you; what are you going to do now? Why don’t you just leave this accursed city?”  
  
Stiles swallowed hard as Peter began running the barrel of the gun from his temple down the side of his neck to his collar and back up again.  “I…I keep doing what I have been.  Trying to survive and keep out of Argent’s path.  And I can’t just leave.  My dad’s here.  Assuming he’s still alive, which he has to be, but if he is then I don’t know why he hasn’t found me unless they’ve done something to him to which is actually pretty likely.  And, Mr. Hale, I  _have_  to find him.  He’s…he’s all I have left.”  Stiles saw a flicker of  _something_  in that unyielding gaze, something human and pained and he knew that Peter had the same problem.  There was nowhere else to go as long as family was involved.  
  


.oOo.

Tapping the end of the gun absently against Stiles’ neck, making the boy freeze in place, Peter seemed to reach some kind of decision.  With a feral grin tilting his lips, he pressed the gun down against Stiles’ shoulder and glanced down at the dirty sidewalk.  “I have a solution to your problem, Stiles.  You give me a demonstration of your…unique skillset, and if I’m satisfied with the results…well, we’ll discuss the rest then.”  Watching as Stiles swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing slightly, he smiled as the boy sank to his knees in front of him, looking up at him with big golden eyes.  He really was quite pretty with long eyelashes and moonlight pale skin, probably from having been denied sunlight for so many years, leanly muscled with long limbs just made for bending into whatever position one could possibly want.  But his mouth…the plump pink lips that parted so readily was truly a temptation Peter could not pass up.  
  
Stiles stared up at Peter, almost concerned with the suddenly intense look the man had as he felt the barrel of the gun slide along his skin once more, this time though, instead of traveling once more to his temple, it slid sideways so the cold metal trailed over his bottom lip.  Trying not to hyperventilate, Stiles felt himself begin to shake as the gun traveled back and forth against his lips, the strong taste of metal and oil and gunpowder filling his senses. “Mr…Mr. Hale?”  
  
Using his parted lips as an invitation, Peter slid the very end of the gun into that perfect mouth, making very sure his finger was on the outside of the trigger.  There would be no more unfortunate accidents happening to the boy as far as he was concerned.  And a boy he was, even if he was technically legal now. Four years spent as nothing but a plaything for immoral men with their own agendas would leave him very little room for growing up properly.  Though, he guessed, he did fit that category as well as most people in the city nowadays.  Watching the tip of the gun slide between those lush lips, he decided he couldn’t wait any longer; he’d spent enough time out in the open as it was merely talking to the boy.  “Fuck, Stiles, your mouth is a sin.  So perfect…”  As surprised as the boy as the words slipped from him, he withdrew the gun, holstering it before sliding both hands into the boy’s ragged hair.  “I believe you know what to do from here.”  
  
Stiles swallowed hard, the acrid taste of the gun lingering in his mouth, but he had to admit, at least to himself, that it was surprisingly erotic watching the play of emotions across the normally stoic face as the weapon was gently fucked into his mouth.  Go figure, after all these years, he’d find out he has a danger kink, or maybe it was just the man himself.  For once in four years, the first time in his life really, he looked forward to finding out exactly how wrecked he could make a man look after a blowjob.  Feeling more confident, he reached up, unfastening the tailored slacks and freeing Peter’s already hardening cock.  Tongue darting out over his lips, he looked at the prize in his hands, barely hard and already thicker than anyone else he’d seen, uncut with the head just peeking out as he grew harder in Stiles’ gentle grasp.  Looking up through his eyelashes, knowing exactly how vulnerable he looked doing so, he leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the head, then further down the shaft, little kitten licks here and there between his fingers as he stroked him lightly.  Feeling Peter’s fingers tighten reflexively in his hair, he hid a grin against the man’s cock as he dipped his tongue teasingly beneath his foreskin.  “Mr. Hale?”  
  
A growled, “Peter.  Fuck, Stiles, I want to hear my name from those sinful lips,” was all the answer Stiles needed.  
  
Pulling back just enough to look up at the older man fully, he let his tongue trail slowly over his lips, leaving them glistening as he met the now burning gaze. “Peter.  Peter, I think I’m going to actually enjoy this.”  Grinning broadly as those fingers tightened in his hair once more, he leaned forward, glancing up only once, before sucking the first couple inches into his mouth. Slipping his hands around to grasp Peter’s thighs, he couldn’t help the soft moan that slipped from him as the ridiculously thick shaft stretched his mouth wider than even before, filling his mouth and nose with the heady taste and smell of the man.  Closing his eyes, he let himself get lost in the sensation of pleasuring a man for the first time, how full his mouth was, the taste of Peter’s precum as it trailed over his tongue every time he bobbed his head, the stretch of his lips as he sought to get as much of the thick shaft as he could into his mouth.  
  
Everything else faded away, the cold, hard sidewalk under his knees, the cool evening breeze as it swept over his thinly clad body.  All he could hear was Peter’s encouraging moans, feel the tug on his hair as the man began to gently fuck into his mouth, pushing further and further inside with each stroke until Stiles could feel the head pressing against the back of his throat, causing him to swallow repeatedly before he started to run out of air.  Hands clenching on Peter’s legs, he finally opened his eyes and looked up at him as worry started to fill him.  He could feel Peter’s fingers tracing over his stretched out cheeks and over his throat, pressing forward just a moment longer as spots started to dance in front of Stiles’ eyes before pulling out of his mouth completely.  
  
Stiles felt his whole body shudder over and over as he sucked in air, staring up at Peter as the man stroked his cock hard and fast, realizing that he’d actually managed to get aroused.  Still caught by the other man’s gaze, he licked his lips, felt how full and raw they were, knew how they must look.  Leaning forward, he mouthed at the head of Peter’s cock as the man stroked it, lapping at the steadily leaking precum. “Peter, please.”   
  
“Fuck, Stiles!”  
  
Stiles’ head was jerked backwards as Peter thrust the head of his cock into his already abused mouth.  Moaning slightly, he sucked hard on the thick member just as he heard Peter cry out wordlessly and his mouth was flooded with cum.  Swallowing as quickly as he could, he still wasn’t fast enough to keep up and he could feel it dribbling down his chin.  Peter didn’t seem to mind if the blissed out look on his face was anything to go by.  Stiles knelt at the man’s feet, sucking and licking gently at his slowly softening cock as he watched him pull his phone out and dial someone before rattling off the address of the building they were in front of.   
  
“Bring the car around. Quickly.”  Looking down at Stiles, Peter couldn’t get over how utterly debauched the boy looked- eyes glazed, skin flushed, lips red and swollen, not to mention half his face covered in cum.  Even better, the boy looked like he had  _enjoyed_  the experience, which only made Peter want to play with him more.  See exactly what it took to make the boy come apart.  
  
Grabbing the boy by one surprisingly firm bicep, he tugged him upwards, even more surprised to see the slight tenting of the boy’s jeans.  “Oh, cub, I am truly going to enjoy playing with you.”  He knew the grin that tilted his lips at the sight of the shudder that went through the boy was as wicked as it could be.  
As the towncar pulled to a stop next to the empty sidewalk, Peter looked at the boy, looking past the role of toy he’d played so easily to the little lost boy beneath the surface.  “Since you have proven your talents to be most adequate, I have a proposition for you.  You will return with me, be assimilated into my household; become one of my people.  We can arrange for you to attend classes with the other children if you like; I really don’t care.  You’ll be allowed to ply your trade on anyone willing to pay for your services.  Hell, maybe you can get my nephew to relax.  If you have any problems, you come to me.  Room and board included, of course. And we’ll see about getting that mark removed as soon as possible.  In return, I’ll make use of your services whenever I please and pay you in something you can truly use.”  
  
Stiles felt like his world was spinning out of control.  The offer was too good to be true, he felt like there had to be some kind of catch.  Schooling, food, a place to live, freedom to pick his own partners, well except for Peter, but if their encounter was a preview of what sex with him would be like, he certainly wouldn’t complain. “Wait, what do you mean? How else would you pay me? Though I mean, really, everything you’ve said is more than enough.”  
  
Peter climbed into the backseat of the car, looking up at Stiles where he stood, awkwardly shifting from side to side.  “Why, Stiles, in information of course.  As you’ve already learned, it’s more valuable than currency.”  
  
“But, what information could you have that I would want? I mean, if you’re truly going to provide all that stuff for me?”  
  
Peter leaned back in the car, nearly disappearing into the darkened corner from Stiles’ point of view, merely his rich voice reaching him as he saw a hand beckon him inside. At his words, he couldn’t move fast enough as he climbed into the car.

“I have information on where your father might be.”


End file.
